The Sacrifice
by Aradia87
Summary: HBP Spoiler. Draco must carry out what he's been ordered to do. But what exactly are his true feelings towards the events going on around him? This is his side of the story.


NOTE: These characters are not mine they belong to J.K. Rowling. This story contains spoilers for Book 6, the Half Blood Prince.

A/N: After reading HBP, I skimmed through the book once more and tried to repress a grin. This is a story just waiting to be written out… I hope u guys enjoy. Please read and review and tell me what you think of it... there'll be more chapters added soon.

**The Sacrifice**

** Prologue:**

_"Will you, Severus, watch over my son, Draco, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord's wishes?"_

"_I will"._

"_And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him from harm?"_

"_I will."_

"_And, should it prove necessary…if it seems Draco will fail……will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord ordered Draco to perform?"_

"_I will", said Snape._

It was only much later that Severus realized what he was expected to do. The weight of his task, though he knew it was the right thing to do, made his heart sink terribly. The potions master frowned in concentration as he paced around the small sitting room he had taken temporary residence to. The lines etched on his face showed signs of age and fatigue. Indeed, he did ponder this thought on several occasions. Thoughts like, _I'm getting too old for this_ and _this double dealing is making me age faster_ had crossed his mind. He had never been particularly vain, but he did care about looking in good condition, especially since the Dark Lord despised cowardly slobs. Appearance these days was everything. He had never felt so lost and yet so sure of himself as he did now.

_This is the only way._

Severus finally sat on the sofa and began a very long letter. How would he explain? How would he be able to operate like this? How was he expected to carry out this task if it wasn't done? But his hand moved of its own volition and he somehow managed to write everything his heart wanted to communicate. This wasn't about him anymore. This was about preventing the corruption of innocence.

** Chapter 1: The Commence of Corruption**

A few hundred milesaway, a young, adolescent blonde also began pacing his room. It was a habit he was growing weary of, as it was only done when he was in private distress. He continued doing this, although the very core of his entire body ached with a dull throb; the aftermath of a cruciatus curse. Simultaneously, another throb of pain was engulfing him, the source being his left arm. His right arm lifted involuntarily to soothe the spot, but all of a sudden he stopped himself and let his arms hang by his side instead.

"_Relief is for the weak_", he thought. 

Finally growing tired of tracing his steps, Draco went over to his large bed and sank into its creamy pillows. Putting his hands behind his head, he began to clear his thoughts and rid himself of any emotion. His Aunt Bellatrix had been teaching him Occlumency most of the summer, and he had gotten quite good at it. Despite recent events, he still managed to be proud of himself for blocking his mother out of his mind. She had grown into one big nervous wreck around him ever since he got his assignment from the Dark Lord, and started trying to poke around his business.

He hated it. And boy, did he show her.

Who was she to treat him like a baby when he was clearly a man? Why did she keep on bringing up how dangerous his assignment is, when he already knew that little piece of information? And most importantly, how could she even dare to _suggest_ that he abort this mission?

"_Do you want this whole family dead? Is that what you want, mother?"_ he shouted at her once, unable to contain his anger and bottled up fear.

_"No, Draco, that is exactly the opposite of what I want. Don't you understand? It's a set-up! You're not supposed to accomplish what the Dark Lord has set in store for you."_ Narcissa shrieked back in tears. Draco just stared at her until his own salt-tears began to surface against his will.

"_I have no fucking choice_", Draco said in a venomous tone. "_And I am going to prove you all wrong. I am going to do this all by myself, and I shall accept no adult helping hand. I don't care what you say… I choose to carry this through till the end."_

Since then, he had been true to his every word. Owls were sent, people were flooed, visits and trips were made. All behind his mother's back. He had already thought of a plan around mid summer, thanks to the advice of his Aunt, and his own personal knowledge. And here he was now, a month later, lying on his bed, still alive, practicing his Occlumency. It didn't matter that his body was aching. It didn't matter that he took the wrath of the Dark Lord because of his father's mistake. What mattered was that he still had a chance to pay off his family's debt. As long as he still had that chance, Draco thought that everything would be alright.

Finishing off his mind exercise, Draco got up slowly and walked over to the window. He peered outside into the night sky and simply stared at the crescent moon. Despite everything being on track for what he was supposed to do, there was still a disturbing feeling that overcame him the moment he was given the assignment. It was an alien feeling to him. Even with the cascade of emotions he had experienced over his summer, there were certain ones that bothered him the most. Was it… Guilt? Regret? No, that couldn't be.

Death Eaters do not feel guilty over their victims. Besides, what had that idiotic, blubbering fool ever done for him? He was too busy fawning and kissing the ground Harry Potter walked on.

_Harry Potter_.

Draco's fists clenched in hate and his jaw tightened. Oh, how he would love to see Potter suffer. While Potter lived in his little world of comfort, security, and even the luxury of having his friends on his side with the snap of a finger, here he was, feigning excitement of becoming just like his father, a Death Eater. And to top it all off, he must face a brutal ultimatum: Either do it, or die. He had not had a choice over his life, or had a moment to live it the way he wanted. All he was did was follow… and keep silent.

_But you don't want to do it, do you, Draco?_

The forbidden thought entered his head. Was this what he had to do? Taint his hands in innocent blood?

_No… I can't do it…it's…**wrong.**_

Wrong?

"_What the fuck is wrong with me?"_ Draco thought frantically. His hands clenched on to tufts of his silky blonde hair and he pulled slightly in frustration.

"_Of course I want to do it_…" he mentally argued back. "_It's time I show everyone that I'm capable of taking these matters in my own_ _hands_."

Draco suddenly wished he wouldn't feel anymore. It would make things so much easier. It's only so much hate a person could feel on one day. He moved away from the window, tearing his eyes away from the nightly glowing orb, and took off his shirt. He did it slowly, feeling the muscles in his arms screaming in protest as he raised both his arms above his head. He threw the white collared shirt on the ground like a dirty rag, and looked up warily to meet his own reflection in the mirror a few feet away.

Studying his face for a few moments, he asked himself when he had gotten so sad.

_Since Father was locked away…_

Things had changed. He was the man of the house now, and he was in charge of taking care of his mother. But although Draco did miss his father terribly, he knew there was another reason unbeknownst to him that was draining what little happiness he had these days.

Draco stepped closer to the mirror, and examined himself better. His eyes ran down his broad torso, to his toned stomach. The light in the room was dimmed, so his skin didn't have the extremely pale color it usually had. While he just looked at himself, his eyes wandered off to his right arm, and stopped.

He just stared.

The Dark Mark looked like a disease that was going to spread around his entire body.

It was there in that moment, while Draco was looking at the snake protruded from the skull, that he realized why he was becoming steadily dejected.

Because it happened the moment he chose to be a killer.


End file.
